I don’t even want to admit how true this is, at times, in regard to myself.
(P.S. Will someone please reissue Dave Louapre and Dan Sweetman’s The Wasteland? I would buy several dozen copies of it as gifts. Instead I treasure my lone copy, and while I’m at it also wish for collections of their other big collaboration, Beautiful Stories for Ugly Children. Seriously people, it’s a license to print money.)
I’m watching a show I taped on Food Network, and my hands are full so I can’t hit the fast-forward button when the commercials kick in. A particularly cheesy ad comes on for an exercise machine (I’m not linking to them, sorry) that just seems ludicrous. Utter waste of money. But at the very end they say, “Try it risk-free for just 30 days! Yours for just $14.95 plus shipping and handling!”
And suddenly the thought pops into my head. Just how bad do they gouge you on shipping and handling?
So out of curiousity, I go to their website and go to the ordering page… and it’s an even bigger rip-off than I imagined. As it turns out, there are two ordering options available:
Send me:
The [big rip-off] for one easy and convenient payment of $199.75 plus $34.50 S&H. Save the $14.95 trial fee!
The [big rip-off] to try for 30 days in the comfort of my own home for only $14.95 plus $34.50 S&H. If I decide to keep it after the 30 day trial, then it is only 5 easy payments of $39.95.
Holy cow. Funny how they don’t mention the $14.95 is just a trial fee. $200 plus another $35 shipping. I wonder how many people they sucker into their trap who just blindly call the phone number? Yeesh. This is why I don’t really miss commercials at all.